


Syntax

by meanderingsoul



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, F/M, Gen, Identity Issues, Introspection, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26118436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingsoul/pseuds/meanderingsoul
Summary: “I guess it hasn't been almost two years for you,” Coulson said quietly.Melinda said nothing. It was harder to hear his voice now that she wasn’t so numb, but at the same time she wanted to close her eyes and listen to him talk.
Relationships: Phil Coulson & Melinda May, Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	Syntax

**Author's Note:**

> I started this one post 7x7. It doesn't use much past the 7x8 trailer and doesn't spoil the episodes following.

The layout of the upgraded Zephyr was still odd to her. There were hallways that bent out around locked rooms, doors opaque that had used to be clear, colored stripes on the walls. Orange and yellow and blue.

Simmons liked to color code things. Melinda hadn’t asked her if there was a meaning yet. There was barely time to sleep, let alone time to sit and ask trivial questions over tea.

This locker room was unchanged though. It was almost always empty.

It was taking on a different meaning already, her need for quiet. It wasn’t just about talking anymore. There was a different kind of noise she needed a break from now.

Melinda sat with her eyes closed, half the lights off, and her back to the glass door. Not keeping the doors in your line of sight got people killed, but it really didn’t matter if her back was to the door anymore, did it? Not the way it used to.

She shook her head at nothing. There weren’t any scars on her back or her belly, but she’d been staring that threat right in the face before and it still hadn’t done her any good.

She couldn’t sense Coulson coming like she could sense the others now, their little clouds of emotions. A microclimate she could feel without trying or asking to. But, she could still recognize him by the sound of his footfalls. 

He walked into the room and paused by the door, waiting to see how she reacted probably. It surprised her when he sat down behind her with a heavy sigh. Melinda hadn’t moved, but she could hear he moved slowly, like he was tired.

“I guess it hasn't been almost two years for you,” he said quietly.

Melinda said nothing. It was harder to hear his voice now that she wasn’t so numb, but at the same time she wanted to close her eyes and listen to him talk.

“It hasn't really been that long for me either. I had them shut me off a lot of the time. Existing like that was...” he trailed off and swallowed audibly.

It hadn’t been tough to figure out he was miserable when they’d finally found them. Even on a TV screen she could recognize that pinched expression on his face.

“We didn't really finish our conversation before. In the Lighthouse cells.”

She snorted.

“Ok, maybe you finished it.”

It ached that she could still hear the little smile in his voice, still knew exactly what it would look like if she turned around to see his face.

“But, I don't think I made myself as clear as I needed to.”

May heard the rustle as he fidgeted. Somehow he still fidgeted when he thought she was upset with him. Coulson’s gestures and memories and skills and his voice...how much else was there?

“I've leaned on you for a long time, more than I should have. More than was ever fair. We both know that,” he said gently.

“Don't say it like I’m incapable of telling you to fuck off,” she said but it came out flatter than she’d meant it to. She could hear the edge of shame in his voice, like he’d used her or something, and she didn’t care for it. It would have to not be a choice she made for that to be true. Walking away when she had nothing left to give had never really been something Melinda struggled with. She knew her limits.

He didn’t respond but she heard the shaky exhale. Even without being able to sense it in the way she was getting used to already, Melinda could tell he was relieved she’d spoken.

“It's not like I want you to tell me everything’s ok. It's not just validation. That's not why I turn to you.”

She knew that, meant to say it but her mouth didn’t move. No one came to her for kind lies, but it was hard to remember all the different ways Coulson had trusted her.

“You were always good at that though. Making me feel better. And I know you still can’t feel for yourself right now and that isn’t fair either. And it’s not ok that there hasn’t been time to look into why this is happening to you. It’s just that...”

Melinda hadn’t wanted to say anything until she was sure, _really_ sure she was feeling her own emotions exactly because of that. There wasn’t any time for this right now. Being numb wasn’t pleasant but it wasn’t like it was killing her or something. She hadn’t wanted to bring up the changes yet, but she hadn’t been trying to hide it either.

Melinda had honestly thought it was obvious, that she felt annoyed again, that she’d been happy to see him because despite everything she couldn’t help it. Of course, Phil knew better than anyone how good of a liar she was.

“Years ago I told you I didn't feel like me anymore and you said I still was.”

“I remember,” she whispered. Apparently that memory was burned into both their heads, standing there in his office and feeling like them for the first time in so long, when she’d thought she’d never have it again.

“If you... In a body it wasn't so bad. It didn't feel as different as I thought it would. I mean it was all _different_. But, I felt like a person.”

Melinda blinked at the blurry floor. The hot tears on her face almost startled her.

“I just need you to know, if you tell me I’m not _me_ like this anymore... I'll believe you.”

The silence of this room wasn’t pleasant anymore. If he was breathing she couldn’t tell.

Coulson stood up without a sound, no click from his left knee, no quiet huff of air. He hesitated standing behind her, lingered.

Melinda could tell he wanted to put his hand on her shoulder, ask her to look at him, reach out to her in some way. Something more than talking with their backs turned in a silent room. This wasn’t how they had hard talks. This wasn’t _them_.

But he didn’t reach out. And she wasn’t sure if it would have made everything better or worse if he had.

Coulson left and the door closed behind him.

Melinda waited until he was gone again to put her wet face down in her hands.


End file.
